


give me all your hopeless hearts

by ElasticElla



Series: the serial killer ryan quartet [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, more gore than violence in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: It’s been a few months since Shane learned about Ryan’s extracurricular activities, and tonight he wants to do it.





	give me all your hopeless hearts

**Author's Note:**

> so somehow last night this went from 'oh nice i'll do a lil companion piece' to 'series!!!!!' further evidence that if i talk to anyone about my shyan plot bunnies, they keep growing & all the love to [kaitlyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn/works) for her support
> 
> title also from thank you for the venom, enjoy bbs <3

There’s a small gift box on Ryan’s desk. The messy wrapping paper says Shane, and it’s early enough that no one else is in the office snooping around. Early enough that Ryan doesn’t really think about it as he rips off the cute alien print paper. 

A small black ring box emerges, and Ryan’s heart beat triples. 

Holy fuck. 

(Ryan takes the day off.)

.

Inside his car, the ring box is tucked away in his glove compartment. Ryan wants it out, wants to stare- but he’s still livid. Fucking Shane taking stupid goddamn risks for no reason. He sure as hell isn’t going to take one, won’t be pulled over while staring at the ridiculously perfect gift. 

The bloodstained note just has an address and signature, and if _anyone_ had decided to peek into his present, Shane would be arrested. Ryan doesn’t know what the time is for slicing off the tip of someone’s finger, but he’s sure it’s more than he wants to spend separated from Shane. 

The address leads Ryan to an older cemetery, deserted at this hour, and he goes into the Murphy Mausoleum. It’s clearly been redecorated, has none of the somber feeling from the graveyard outside.

Shane has a person- not body yet, still breathing- tied down to a marble raised coffin, gagged and blindfolded. They’re only wearing boxers, and their left hand is missing the end of their ring finger. There’s another raised coffin beside them, this one scattered with white rose petals, and Ryan is still mad dammit. 

The box feels heavier in pocket, even more relevant than he dared dream. 

“Hey, you found the place.” 

“You’re lucky it was me- what if someone else had opened that?” Ryan asks, unwillingly gravitating towards Shane and the person. He knows close up there’s no hope for a serious conversation, but for how good Shane looks towering over a future corpse, there never was much.

Shane shrugs, toying with a knife- an overly ornamental thing, opals in the handle. The type of knife Ryan wouldn’t just dispose of after a kill, and he’s pretty sure Shane will feel the same way. 

“What’s life without a little risk baby?” Shane replies. 

Ryan rolls his eyes, “At this rate we’re gonna be caught before you even become a serial killer.” 

“Isn’t that just three kills? Ouch, you wound me.” 

Ryan snorts, looking around again. There’s candles he hadn’t noticed before, too high up for him to reach, lining the entire room. “Very gothic horror.” 

“Thank you.” 

“And so covered in your dna.” 

Shane winks, “I’m hoping to get some of _your_ dna on it later.” 

Ryan groans, “This is it. First and last kill of the great Madej.” 

“We’ll run away. Where’s the nicest place without extradition?” Shane asks. 

“Where ever the corporate moguls go.”

“Yeah, we’ll go there. I bet it has a lovely beach.” 

Ryan laughs, “Uh huh, as long as there are cocktails with little umbrellas, I’m happy.” 

Shane pats the other coffin, “Hop up.” 

Ryan does, a few rose petals floating to the ground. “I feel like a virgin sacrifice.” 

Shane snorts, stepping between his legs, and oh, up this high Shane’s only an inch or so taller than him. Nice. 

“I’d gladly sacrifice your virginity baby.” 

“Late on that one big guy,” Ryan says, pulling him in for a kiss. As usual Shane tastes like popcorn and coffee, tastes nearly comical in their current context. 

Their lips part, Shane resting his forehead against his, stays close. “I could do this all day,” he murmurs, and Ryan would like a little murder mixed in, but isn’t opposed. 

There’s a dull thump, muffled screams, and Shane steps back with a wide grin. “Ah, our guest of honor is awake.”

The person’s head keeps moving left to right, their sounds increasing as Shane pulls a dark hood over their face. There’s instant quiet, the hood with the gag canceling out any noise, and Ryan rather likes it. It doesn’t look human any more: an object, a toy, a decoration. The hood makes a nice addition to his usual repertoire, next time he’ll have to do that. 

“Remember that art class I took last summer?” Shane casually asks, slicing into the person’s shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Ryan answers, breathless with anticipation. Honestly he thought watching Shane do this would involve more jealousy or boredom, a fantasy that turns dull in reality. But he’s already on edge- wants to know what Shane will do next, _how_ he’ll do it.

“I didn’t get the most constructive criticism from Johnny here,” Shane says. “So we’re going to turn him into an exhibit. You should take off your shirt.” 

Ryan does, asking after, “Reason for that? Or did you miss the gun show?” 

Shane laughs, covering his hand in blood. He turns to him, still mostly pristine except for the bright red hand and knife. Shane might say he’s making art or whatever, but he _is_ art in motion like this. Blood dripping down on each side of him- from the knife and his fingertips. 

“Gonna make you messy love.” 

And Shane wraps a hand around his bicep, removing it for a perfect print. It’s sticky and itchy- Ryan always tries to get blood off him fast, that’s being a successful murderer 101. He feels antsy, but not enough to stop or leave, definitely not enough to miss the way Shane starts _writing_ on the guy. 

“Too superfluous?” Ryan reads when Shane’s done, the carved letters thin but deep. The ‘rf’ is a bit messy, but it’s still legible. If Ryan squints and turns his head, it even kinda looks like Shane’s regular writing. 

“Much like his continued existence,” Shane says, grabbing a large bowl. It’s a white porcelain, matches the scene a little too well. 

“…how long have you been planning this?” 

Shane blushes, freeing one arm to slice open, blood splattering into the bowl. Ryan absently wonders if the guy’s already dead, his arm just flopping into place. Shane mutters something indiscernible, freeing and slicing open the other arm. (Definitely dead, Shane cuts deeper than he probably meant to, no one could be still through that or lose that much blood.)

“What was that honey?” Ryan asks.

Shane huffs, “It was an idle fantasy during the class, not real y’know? Like ‘hah wouldn’t that be funny if he wound up dead?’”

Ryan bites his lips shut, mirth building up. And to think, he was once worried about his boyfriend discovering his secret. 

“But after I _saw_ you, it became a real possibility. If something happens and I only get to kill one person, this is it.”

Shane comes back over, setting the bowl of blood beside him, and Ryan pulls him in for a kiss. 

“And you invited me, aww baby.” It’s only half sarcasm, the warmth in his voice real.

Shane backs up a bit, “Mhmm, lay down, this part’s important.” 

Ryan does, and Shane upends the entire bowl all over his chest. 

“What the _fuck_!” Ryan yelps, was expecting maybe a few more cute hand prints not a sudden cool drenching. Before it smelt like an ordinary murder scene- now all he can smell is blood. 

“Be still,” Shane says, “can’t mess up the petals.” 

Ryan looks around, and sure enough there’s a wavering outline of his torso staining an inch or so into the rose petals. Looking down at his own chest, he can’t help but laugh. 

“Dude, this looks so fake. Like cheap horror movie shit.” 

“Makes you think,” Shane jokes. 

Ryan breathes out a laugh, “Yeah, I’m sure every studio had one killer to change the prop blood to real stuff and no one noticed.” 

“Hey maybe they just thought it was high quality.” 

Shane drags a his thumbnail down Ryan’s chest, blood pulling away in a satisfying scratch. “So beautiful for me.” 

“I look ridiculous,” Ryan counters, can already feel the thin spots of blood going brittle. 

Shane drags his hand down, warm slickness following, and Ryan sucks a breath in as Shane’s hand keeps going lower until he reaches his cock. 

“Stunning,” Shane corrects, squeezing through his jeans. 

Ryan might not get off on killing the way Shane does, but he’s very into this, bucking his hips up into the heat of his hand. 

“Whatever, are you joining me or not?” 

Shane gives a fake gasp, one hand going to his chest dramatically as the other wipes blood all over the crotch of his jeans. (Fuck, these jeans are so forever ruined.) “Why I never! I have a reputation to uphold. What would the neighbors think?” 

“The neighbors are dead, blow me.” 

“My romantic,” Shane swoons, pulling the ring box out of his pocket. 

“What I don’t even get to keep my gift?” 

Shane lights up, bouncing on his toes, “You did like it.” 

“Still a dumb risk.” 

Shane hums, opening the box and placing it on the body’s covered face. 

Ryan raises an eyebrow, “I’m not sure how to feel about that.” 

“It’s art baby, there’s no wrong answer.” 

“Uh huuuh, spoken like a liberal arts major.” 

“It’ll come together in the end,” Shane assures him. 

“Speaking of coming-”

“And you call me impatient.” 

“-can we get back to that?” Ryan asks.

Shane clambers onto the coffin awkwardly, bowl smashing to the ground and petals fluttering. 

“Shut up,” he says instinctively and Ryan raises an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Ryan says airily. 

Shane’s eyes narrow, and he pulls Ryan up so they’re both sitting. “You were thinking it.” 

Ryan can give him that, leans forward to kiss him. The blood on him is nearly all dry now, crumbling off when he presses against Shane and turning his tan shirt misted red-brown. 

Shane’s hand slips into his jeans, and between the blood making them damp, his boner, and the sheer size of Shane’s hand- there isn’t nearly enough room. 

“Lemme-” Ryan starts, reaching for the zipper. 

Shane swats his hands away, “No. You’re gonna come like this.”

“Dude no, I feel like a teenager. I’m taking my damn pants off,” Ryan says, reaching again. 

Shane stops him before he can, two oversized knees pinning his thighs open. He freezes, arousal flushing out annoyance. 

“What if someone shows up Ryan? You can’t run away half naked.” 

“Dick, fine whatever.” 

Shane grins, pecking his lips. “You’re sure right?” 

Ryan rolls his eyes, “Just hurry up.” 

“It’ll be just like you’re thirteen again.” 

Ryan groans, “The cops are gonna catch us before I even-”

Shane’s hand begins to rock against his dick, pretty much the only movement it can make in the limited space, and it feels _awesome_. Ryan’s chalking most of it up to being horny and not getting laid in a few days, but Shane’s wide grin says he doesn’t care about the root cause.

His hips struggle to push up harder into Shane’s hand, but his knees keep him still, heart beating faster at the pressure.

“So good for me,” Shane coos, and Ryan reaches up to kiss him so he’ll shut up. (He’s still gonna be angry at the end of this. Totally.)

Shane alternates between rocking his palm into his dick, and pressing his fingers up against his balls, both motions completely destroying all of Ryan’s kissing skills. Ryan’s more or less panting into Shane’s mouth, gripping his hair tight. 

“Fuck,” Ryan hisses when one of Shane’s fingers pushes against his hole, teasing. His fingers are too damn long, and Ryan’s orgasming, eyes shut as everything flashes white.

“So pretty baby,” Shane’s moaning, and Ryan’s drifting back down when Shane comes all over his jeans. He hadn’t even noticed that Shane took his dick out, almost wants to protest the unfairness.

Ryan laughs, “Shit. These jeans are so trashed.” 

“Mhmm,” Shane tucks himself away, getting up and tossing Ryan his shirt. “C’mere it’s done.” 

Ryan pulls the shirt on, hopping off the coffin and walking over to Shane at the mausoleum's entrance. 

“Here,” Shane says, gently placing Ryan in front of him, his arms looping around his waist and head hooked over his shoulder. Ryan sighs happily at the hold, loves feeling Shane all over him, and looks around at the new display.

The candles up top are nearly burnt out, ivory wax dripping down all of the walls, making a beady fringe. The two coffins are perfect foils: still death on one, and evidence of passing life on the other. The petals are everywhere on the one coffin- some bloody, most crumpled, and a few untouched at the top corners. On the floor there’s the drama of the smashed bowl, the knife, blood splatter, and a few dozen petals that fell. 

“It’s beautiful,” Shane says happily. 

“Yeah, it really is,” Ryan agrees. 

It’s a miracle that they get back to Ryan’s car without anyone seeing them. 

.

Tasha leaves him a message about a weird local case that her fellow cops seem to be ignoring, but it’s too late. Ricky Goldsworth and Banjo McClintock already have two plane tickets out of America.


End file.
